SpongeBob Squarepants: The Last Action Hero
by Munchaus
Summary: SpongeBob was once the most-decorated soldier in King Neptune's army. Now, he's retired and spends his time playing that game where you throw cards into a hat. Retirement doesn't suit our hero and there's a few people that need killing.


SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS: THE LAST ACTION HERO

The door opened and the colonel stomped into my room like he owned the place.

"Squarepants!" he shouted. "You're not answering your shellphone! What the hell are you doing?"

I threw a Seven of Clubs at his feet, and it ricocheted off the dirt floor and into my old helmet.

"I thought you'd get the hint," I said in a low rumble. "I don't work for you any more."

The colonel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Robert, we need your skills," the old man said. "We've got a crisis on our hands."

"There's always some crisis with you people," I told him as a Three of Diamonds twirled into the Olive Drab head-covering. "Who'd you piss off this time? The Surface? The people of Rock Bottom?"

The colonel turned his back to me. Bastard was probably doing it for dramatic effect.

"It's Barnacle Boy," he spat out. "He's gone rogue. We need you to put him down."

"I don't kill for you any more," I said. "I don't kill for anyone."

"The Boy has King Neptune's daughter," the colonel said. "We haven't told anyone to avoid a national incident. We need this done with some stealth and finesse. We're calling you out of retirement."

I hadn't seen Princess Mindy in almost ten years. I could only hope the years had been more kind to her than they had been for me.

"Robert, we don't expect you to do this for free," the colonel said. "We'll make sure you're well-rewarded."

"Money's tight," I said. "I'll do it."

Truth is, I just wanted to see what kind of woman Mindy had blossomed into. I hadn't even been near a woman in years. Also might be nice to see a friendly face, especially after Gary died and Patrick was put in the assisted living facility.

"Remember, Robert," the colonel said as he saluted me. "We need this one played close to the chest. No showboating, and there sure as hell better not be anything over-the-top."

"You'll get your results, Colonel," I told him. "I'm older now. I don't need gunpowder and dynamite to make waves."

The colonel spun on his heels and shouted-back that I'd be leaving in the morning. It's about damn time I got to do something that wasn't tossing cards and daydreaming.

I could barely hear the jump instructions over the roar of the plane's engines. It seemed like a simple enough job. Parachute into Barnacle Boy's compound. Sneak in. Save Mindy. Eliminate "The Boy." Come home. Be named a hero.

"You ever do something like this?" some rookie asked me.

"Once or twice," I said.

"They say you're the best," the kid told me.

"They say lots of shit that they don't mean," I told him.

Right as the kid was about to ask me another question, the jump-guide banged on the wall to let me know the target was coming up.

The door opened and I was hit with powerful winds and muffled screams that were attempts at telling me how to do my job.

I just shook my head and dove out of the plane.

Pulling the rip-cord had more force behind it than I'd remembered, and I damn near had my insides pulled out of my back. It's hell getting old. I don't recommend it.

As I neared the ground, I started my tuck and roll. When I came out of it all, I spotted a guard. Poor bastard had no idea what was about to hit him.

I scrambled up, grabbed the front of his helmet, dug my knee into his back, and pulled his head backwards. The snap of his spine and neck was like a deer making its way through the woods. No one would suspect a thing.

The guard slumped over and his eyes rolled back. A few death rattles escaped his mouth, but it was nothing to worry about. Besides, I've got some rust to shake off.

His uniform was about my size, so I slipped it on and put my boy in some nearby bushes. I might as well have been playing life on easy mode by this point.

I'm just glad that sponges are squishy, otherwise someone would have questioned the block of cheese wandering their compound.

Making my way from station to station resulted in more kills, each quieter than the last.

My last guard was asleep. I could get creative here. I knelt down and grabbed "Ol' Faithful" out of my boot. Damn knife is as long as it is heavy. Figured that was a good name for the blade, though. Had a jellyfishing net with the same name when I was younger.

I miss being innocent.

No time for philosophy, though. I sized-up my target, planted my hand on his left should and my other plunged Ol' Faithful between this poor bastard's fourth and fifth rib. He tried to cry out, but even the biggest hard-ass is gonna have trouble with a punctured lung.

Blood pooled up into his mouth and ran down his chin, staining his camouflage uniform into a deep brown, just about the same color as Sandy's fur.

I miss Sandy. It's hell when you're a sponge and you outlive your friends.

I felt my eyes well-up with tears, and I knew I was gonna break down. Now's not the time, Bob. Hang in there. Just a little more and you can go home as a rich man.

The keys were dangling from the guard's pocket and, lucky for me, they were all labeled. Mindy's cell was nearby, according to the security camera. Lucky for me, she's doing fine, even if she is pacing her floor.

As I slid and slinked around the last bit of the compound, I found myself in the building's jail. Last cell on the block is hers. I'm almost done.

God help me, I could use a break.

My feet drug me to the end of the wall and I couldn't stop myself from screaming.

"Mindy! Mindy! Oh shit! Mindy!"

She'd been cut from ear-to-ear and shackled to the wall. Judging by the level of decomposition, she'd been dead awhile. I vomited, but I honestly couldn't tell you if it was because of shock or the smell.

"Don't move, Sergeant Squarepants," the voice said. "You're cornered."

I wiped my lip and turned around to face the voice. Just some piss-ant grunt who wanted to make a name for himself, along with two goons. It's their fucking funeral.

"The Boy knew you'd make it this far," the grunt said. "We've been playing that loop on our monitors for weeks. You fell for our ruse, hook, line, and sinker. Now die!"

The three raised their machine-guns, but before they could even wrap their hands completely in the trigger-guard, I'd thrown Ol' Faithful. The grunt caught it in the forehead and his nerves tensed his hand, mowing down a goon in the process.

The last goon stared at me with a look that blended confusion and fear. Poor bastard knew he was dead. He just didn't know how. His mind was probably racing with thoughts of some incredible kung-fu combo that tore him to pieces. I had other plans.

I simply walked over to him and started strangling him. He clawed at me, but I tightened my grip on his trachea. I didn't want him to pass out so, every little bit, I would loosen my grip and let him catch a breath. It's what I imagined it felt like for a surface-dweller to drown.

Eventually, after what felt like ages, the goon was dead and I found myself with a machine-gun and a shitload of ammo. The colonel was gonna be pissed, but I really didn't care. After I dug Ol' Faithful out of the guy's forehead, I made my way out of the holding area.

Goons, grunts, and guards started to pour out of the main building, and I opened fire. Some of their heads were torn to pieces by the storm of lead. Others died from internal bleeding. Didn't matter. I just wanted them dead, and Barnacle Boy was next.

The main building eventually emptied its payload of bodies for me to tear apart. I knew that The Boy was all that remained.

I found Barnacle Boy standing in the courtyard with a trident in his hand.

"So," he said. "the student returns to meet his master."

"I didn't learn shit from you, old man," I told him. "Last I checked, I never went bad for some cheap thrills."

"Cheap thrills?" The Boy seemed genuinely perplexed. "That's what you think this is? You never could think for yourself. You're just a damn gun. We only had to point you in a direction and let you do what you do best. You could have been great, but you only became an animal or worse, a tool."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I shouted.

"Robert, didn't you ever wonder why Patrick had to be institutionalized?" Barnacle Boy said. "Why Sandy died so young? Why Squidward vanished and was never seen again? It was the King's doing. He had us become experiments to keep him young, strong, and perfect. You and I, we were the best. Mermaid Man, he was hailed as the best, but you and I knew."

"It can't be!" I screamed as I shook my head in disbelief. "I don't want to hear it!"

"Then kill me and take my files, Robert," The Boy said. "But I won't give them up without a fight. Show me what you can do!"

He whipped the trident around, and charged me as hard as his feeble legs could carry him. I don't think he expected me to just stand there and get gored, but I closed my eyes and I did. I just stood there.

The three prongs burst through my body and dug deep into my insides.

But the damnedest thing happened: Nothing. Not a damned thing. I didn't feel anything and my elderly-opponent recognized this. In a knee-jerk response, I grabbed Ol' Faithful and shoved the blade up through the base of Barnacle Boy's chin, piercing his brain and flooding his eyes with blood.

He didn't cough or sputter. He only fell to his knees and dropped to his side as death moved on him.

I grabbed the trident by the handle and yanked it out of my face. Once again, I didn't feel a thing.

Barnacle Boy's files were in a drawer in his office. Before I slammed the notebook, I saw the following:

SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS. RESULTS: PERFECT IN EVERY WAY. ISOLATE GENOME FOR FURTHER TESTING...

It hit me like a guy in a gorilla suit beating up a shirtless buffoon and his best friend.

Mindy's death was her father's greed and lust for immortality, but I didn't have to be so damn predictable for Barnacle Boy. I got her killed and I couldn't live with myself.

So I did the only thing I knew to do. I started swimming upwards, towards the surface. As my head burst through the water, I saw a small island with two coconut trees nestled on it. It seemed like as good of a grave as any.

My hands dug into the sand and I clawed my way onto the beach. The sun was pounding into my flesh and I felt the moisture wick away as I dried into a husk.

I'm sorry, Mindy. A girl like you deserved better than an old sponge like me.


End file.
